Friday, May 5, 2017

Thrum in the deep

And on the street corner
in your broke arse shoes
you ask,
'Why am I so nice?'

At the nightclub
behind the 
velvet rope
you say,
'Who is this guy?'

As your phone 
goes bong
and you're
deep in the thrum
amongst the throng
you shout,
'I can't find my love!'

In the living room
beginning to swirl
you look at the pipe
drool,
'I gotta smoke this shit'

And you get
to the fifth
verse
fifth
to the,
'Nah forget it'

And a pit bull 
bites your leg
you can't calm it down
it's yours
on the end
of
a lead

Bukowski's blue bird
is singing
from his cage
he wants 
to
be freed

The broken face
in the mirror
is missing teeth
and hard,
'Gee is that me?'

One time
at a Berlin club
watching the ping pong club
I drank 14 becks
and a German said,
'Mein gott, you are so drunk!'

I went to the psych ward
to see a girl
who couldn't remember
my name
and I thought,
'This is probably my fault'

I always felt 
the stories were
good
but on repeat
it was the poems
where he truly shone